Page 39 of Unravel Me

Soon, I start moving, and he watches me the whole time. My hair is so long that it spills all the way down to his lower belly in a golden cascade. I notice the fascination in his eyes. He keeps reaching up to run his fingers through the strands, winding them around his fingers or letting them slip through his palm. He handles them gently, almost reverently, and I'm grateful. I take good care of my hair with conditioners and hair masks to keep it healthy and free of split ends.

As I pick up the pace, my hair sways like a veil of gold, and my cock bounces with every thrust. The more I lose myself in it, the hotter it gets. I love this position because I have total control over my own pleasure—how deep, how hard I go. So I ride him however I prefer, and the orgasm builds fast, even though sweat is pouring off me and my hair becomes plastered to my chest and shoulders.

When it finally hits, it's explosive. A rush of energy surges up my spine and bursts out the top of my head. I throw my arms up and cry out, loud and wild.

At the same time, I feel him come. His aura flares brighter, sending a pulse of energy through me, and I'm flooded with a fresh spurt of wet inside my passage.

This moment is extraordinary, as if some kind of energy has entered me, something that comes from him, some power that has found its way to me, into my very core… For a split second, I feel like I know what happened. A thought flashes through my mind:

A new life.

But I push it away, too deeply lost in pleasure.

Completely spent, I collapse onto his chest. My eyes drift shut on their own, and I slip away into sleep.

Heat has always been like this for me. After every wave is satisfied, I simply fall asleep and stay that way until the next one is near. You could say my heat is a strange state: half sleep and half bliss.

When I wake up again, the entity is gone from the cabin once more. I wonder what he does during all those moments when he isn't fucking me. I head into the bathroom and take a long shower, washing my hair too, since it doesn't exactly look fresh after riding the fae. I wrap it in a towel because I never use a dryer, as it damages my hair. Then I return to the bed and lie down, already feeling the next wave creeping closer. I'm frustrated by how intense all of this is, but what else could I expect? I'm a young omega, and young omegas always have the strongest, wildest heats.

With every passing minute, I feel the peak drawing nearer. My whole body seems to tremble constantly, as though I were lying on a gently vibrating surface, while endless contractions and waves roll through me.

As I wait for him to return, I stare up at the ceiling, where a tree trunk passes through an opening. It's been carefully insulated with rock wool to keep the warmth inside without damaging the tree. Interesting. I really like the mindset of whoever designed this cabin. It's small, but incredibly cozy, the perfect place to escape civilization and relax surrounded by nature.

My muddled brain tries to stay focused on any unrelated topic to slow down the relentless rise of my hunger, but my body doesn’t care. My thighs slowly spread apart on their own, and while I desperately search for something to occupy my thoughts as I wait… bam. There it is.

A troubling realization suddenly pops into my overheated mind.

It's already been twenty-four hours since I last contacted Alex.

Shit!

Maybe he'll wait a little longer, but I should let him know what happened to me as soon as possible.

The very moment I violently push myself upright, intending to do something about it, the green fae walks inside.

The sight of him instantly sends a rush of heat into my cheeks, and I fall back onto the bed. He's already semi-hard… and so am I. Actually, scratch that. I'm fully hard. This stage of heat is always overwhelming. Even though my body aches with need, I remain sprawled across the bed, almost paralyzed, doing nothing except spreading my thighs even wider.

The creature, however, seems to ignore my rather obvious invitation. He's carrying something that looks like a dark bundle, though at first I can't tell what's inside. A second later, I do, because an amazing smell begins drifting from it.

So he'd clearly gone somewhere, bought… or made something for me to eat.

He disappears into the pantry for a moment, then returns carrying a tall mug filled with something steaming and warm. Walking over to the bed, he offers it to me, and I instantly recognize what it is.

A delicious vegetable broth, blended perfectly smooth so I won't have to chew.

Dear Fate… it smells incredible.

I look up at him, gratitude swelling inside my chest. I've been craving something exactly like this. Living entirely on protein shakes isn't ideal, but the rich aroma of hot homemade soup… that's exactly what I needed.

"Thank you. It smells amazing."

The soup is still warm, so I assume he either made it somewhere else or someone prepared it for him not long ago. I start drinking.

Wow.

It's the perfect temperature… and it tastes even better.

"Mmm… you're a fantastic cook," I say on purpose, curious to see how he'll react.